


Where It All Began

by SunsetOrchids



Series: Dear Ubisoft: Brasidas Should Have Been A Romantic Option [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Assassin's Creed Odyssey, Assassin's Creed: Odyssey - Fandom
Genre: Assassin's Creed: Odyssey, Assassin's Creed: Odyssey Spoilers, Consensual Sex, Death, F/M, Major Spoilers, Makeup Sex, Minor Spoilers, Passionate, Sex, Smut, baesidas, fight to the death, romantic sex, vanilla sex, war bae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 08:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17117723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunsetOrchids/pseuds/SunsetOrchids
Summary: Kassandra returns home to Sparta to face her demons and tie any loose ends--and to hopefully convince Brasidas to join her crew. Contains spoilers for Odyssey's ending, and some smut in the last chapter.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Finishing up my little Brasidas trilogy. Thank you for reading and I hope it's enjoyable! :)
> 
> First thing-Brasidas survives in my Odyssey. I don't care what Ubisoft wanted, my Kassandra would pick Brasidas over her murderous brother any day. Therefore she steps in at the battle of Amphipolis because I've been pissed with his demise for way too long and needed to do something about it.
> 
> So, disclaimer, this does deviate from the source in two ways: in Brazzy still being alive and Kassandra's final showdown with Alexios/Deimos (he doesn't get to have his dumbass speech and some choices were reworked to make, in my opinion, a more cohesive ending despite choices).
> 
> Alas, Enrique-I mean, Natakas is now a part of the series so I'm off to chase him! Thank you again for reading and I hope it's at least a nice conclusion!

_Flashes of color, vivid reds and rich blues, rolled across stark, burning sands. Each battle had a particular sound, the clang of weapons and shields, the nearby screams of both victims and their prey. In this one it was the losing Athenians who were the loudest. Kassandra ignored the noise and hacked at the Athenian brute who dared oppose her. High above Ikaros cried. She twisted, her opponent collapsing behind her, focus weaving through scores of soldiers and mercenaries until it reached that too familiar figure. Brasidas beckoned Alexios to him, demanding they finish what had been started in Pylos._

_Even from fifty meters away she could see that terrible smile play upon Alexios’ lips, teeth flashing in answer._

_Brandishing a spear he ran right for the Spartan._

Sitting bolt upright in her little bed Kassandra gasped for breath, wide eyes blindly searching in the dark for the rest of that moment. Beneath her the Adrestia rocked gently, the ship’s lulling quiet reminding her that particular battle was over. Clutching at her blanket she scrubbed a palm over her face, fingers finding her hair and combing through it next. While her heartbeat settled she slowly eased back to the mattress, wishing it wasn’t empty like every other night.

It’d been a dream, she knew, but that moment…that moment she couldn’t forget.

She thought about exiting her quarters to find Brasidas but he’d been distant since they’d set sail from Makedonia. Running to him now in the dead of night wouldn’t fix anything. Instead she twisted on her side and curled up, willing herself to think of anything else.

Anything at all.

 

X

 

The ride into Sparta was long and subdued, just like the sail from Makedonia to Lakonia. On one hand it provided time to heal, both mentally and physically, but in between there was much to consume Kassandra’s thoughts.

She wasn’t sure she’d made the right decision on Amphipolis’ shores but, as Sokrates constantly reminded her, those decisions couldn’t be regretted. She definitely didn’t regret it.

Glancing up her gaze fell upon Brasidas’ back, his armor glinting under the sun, red tunic complimenting his battle-acquired tan. He rode directly in front of her in their little caravan, joking with some of the others every now and then but mostly keeping to himself. Having him here alive was better than the alternative.

There wasn’t enough understanding in the entire Greek world to let Alexios have his way. Every now and then she’d close her eyes and see that moment, her brother baring down on Brasidas, ready to skewer him as if he were nothing. Brasidas hadn’t spoken to her about it (or at all) as there’d been little chance since but she did _not_ regret throwing herself at Alexios, determined to keep him busy. The Spartan commander was alive and, hopefully, Alexios was not. Their mother would be heartbroken but Kassandra couldn’t be swayed, not when that malakas had murdered half the region.

Seemingly aware of her stare the Spartan twisted in his saddle, a thin smile headed her way. Kassandra returned the look before her attention wandered. Sparta’s inspiring landscape closed in around them and soon they were amongst gleaming columns and tapestries, crimson and gold swinging lazily in the warm breeze. The main path to the acropolis was thickly lined with their people, helots, civilians, and warriors alike, all who’d heard of their army’s great victory in the north. The Athenians were devastated—for now—and Kleon was dead, the final member of the cult so far as she knew. Years upon years of warfare would hopefully now draw to a close.

Proud as she was to have been a part of the Spartan effort she still only thought of Alexios readying to kill Brasidas. She couldn’t make that moment stop haunting her. What little loyalty she carried…it’d shown itself in that moment.

Past the market and training grounds their party climbed the hill beneath the acropolis. While some of the group moved on both she and the commander veered to the right down a quieter road. Phobos’s hooves slowly clopped until they paused in front of an older dwelling. She slid off the sturdy horse, mindful not to watch Brasidas as he stiffly took his time doing the same. His leg would never be the same but she knew he’d adapt; he already had at Amphipolis’ battlegrounds. He was a Spartan, after all.

“If I never ride again I wouldn’t be disappointed,” he remarked, one hand running over his horse’s flank, the other looping it’s reins to a post along the dwelling’s front. Kassandra kept her smirk to herself. She nudged Phobos toward the garden and then they both headed for the door. Her hand reached to push it open, all kinds of thoughts of home flooding back.

Myrrine was going to be brokenhearted once more. She’d promised to bring Alexios back, to reunite their family but that hope died ages ago, first at Pylos and especially on Makedonia’s barren shores. Facing her mother was almost worse than anything else.

“Kassandra.” Brasidas had set his palm over her wrist, thumb gently stroking her skin. His touch worked it’s way her to the core, something she always enjoyed. Tilting her head she gave him a questioning look. His warm brown eyes were studying her, distracted. Glancing past her he took a long breath.

“She will understand. She’s your mater.”

She was Alexios’s, too. Kassandra swallowed that notion, reminding herself there were some things even she couldn’t change. Her attention moved to the door.

“Thank you for coming with me, Brasidas.”

His presence grew closer in an instant, other hand running just over the small of her back in encouragement. “I can think of nowhere else I’d rather be.”

His affection made her heart leap happily. Failing to remain composed Kassandra flashed her teeth. “I can think of several places. On the sea, the Adrestia perhaps, in bed…”

“We’ll be there soon enough,” he teased with a straight face, making her relax. “Myrrine will be pleased to see you alive and well. I’ve heard the Wolf recently returned, too. You’ve done all you could, Kassandra. Only a malakas wouldn’t be proud of you.”

He was right. She knew he was. Nodding, she took a deep breath and shoved in the door. This was it. _Her_ home. Together they stared into the dim, dusty interior. Everything was just as she and Myrrine left it…except Myrrine was absent. The messenger who’d met them at port stated she would be waiting for them here.

“Mater?” she called out, receiving no answer. Beside her Brasidas’ shoulders rolled.

“Seems we missed her.”

They likely had but Kassandra worried regardless. She trusted Myrrine, knew she could take care of herself. Despite that she was still curious, thoughts already narrowing down where her mother might be. There was somewhere she’d wanted to visit in recent weeks, the place where their family had been torn apart. Had her mother felt a similar call to Mount Taygetos?

After a quick circle through the empty house she returned to Brasidas who leaned in the doorframe, arms firmly crossed over his broad chest. He still favored his right leg but it _was_ much better than before. Despite that he carried himself proudly as always, scars and knots indicating his courage. And, when he smiled at her grinned back like a malakas. Guiding him to the backroom to pass some time alone before Myrrine was highly tempting.

“I know where she went,” she informed him, sticking to the most pressing issue first. Once she’d popped out into the dying light she rested both hands on her hips. “Care to join me?”

Pushing from the frame Brasidas ambled for his horse. “You can’t let me rest, can you?”

Beaming, she whistled for Phobos. She was always pleased to have his company, romantic or otherwise. “Come, Brasidas. This job isn’t finished and you know I finish everything.”


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A final showdown between the siblings.

They wound their way through Sparta and to the west, gliding past sprawling countryside and making good time as the climbed the road up Mount Taygetos. The sun had already sunk behind the hills, night crickets and the occasional howling wolf mingling with the sound of their horses. Beautiful as the ride was Kassandra couldn’t help the knot forming in her stomach.

She’d wanted to return here ever since she’d arrived in Lakonia the first time, the mountain always in the back of her mind. If it’d called to her then she was certain her mother answered it just as she had.

A quarter of the way to the summit they spied a figure up ahead on the dappled path, alone and on foot. Kassandra urged Phobos slower, Brasidas halting behind her. He asked if that was Myrrine and she grunted in confirmation. She’d know her anywhere.

“Go to her,” he softly advised, keeping his mount steady when it became clear she wasn’t moving. Surprised, Kassandra twisted to see him pointing to the path. “She will be proud of you, Kassandra. You have served Sparta and the innocent of Greece.”

He always knew what to say. She admired him for that, his ability to both think and deal heavy blows in battle incredibly impressive. Damn him and his logic.

Ignoring the desire to head back Kassandra told him they’d return soon and rode on, Phobos climbing the trail until she’d reached Myrrine. Her mother had already turned, waiting for her. Relief already masked her face. Sliding off Phobos Kassandra automatically fell into her mother’s open arms.

“My lamb,” Myrrine breathed, hugging her tight. “It has been too long.” Upon release she looked her daughter over as any mother would. “I heard what happened in Amphipolis. By the gods, Kassandra! You’ve more than proven yourself to the people of Sparta! But…tell me, did you find Alexios?”

Guilt rose in Kassandra’s throat. She stepped back, avoiding Myrrine’s hopeful gaze. “I…did, but I’m not sure if he’s alive. Kleon, he…shot him in the back before running from the field.”

“That coward,” Myrrine seethed, fists clenching. “I’ll rip out his heart, he—!”

“He’s dead,” her daughter assured, standing a little straighter. “I made sure of it.”

“Good,” muttered Myrrine, pleased to hear of that at least. Her brow furrowed before she eyed Kassandra once more. “And Alexios…?”

“It didn’t look fatal, but I couldn’t find him afterward,” Kassandra explained, heart anxiously picking up its pace. She didn’t know why she was so nervous, giving folk bad news was part of her job. Her mother, however… She didn’t want to tell Myrrine the rest but she needed to know. “Mater, I tried, I really did, but he nearly killed Brasidas—he _did_ kill Perikles and many, many more. I don’t know if anything I’ve said or done has meant anything to him.”

“Alexios is your brother,” Myrrine argued, voice rising. “ _My_ son. We are a family. We cannot abandon him or give up, not again.”

Kassandra bit her tongue, gaze finding a nearby olive tree suddenly very interesting. She found her mother’s words naive but she _had_ tried her best. “If we find him I’ll keep…keep trying, I promise.”

“Please,” Myrrine begged, eyes bright and pleading in the dusk. She took Kassandra by one arm, visibly relaxing as she looped elbows with her. “But for now I am happy enough to have you here at home. You were called here too, weren’t you?”

At least they hadn’t come to blows. Kassandra nodded once more, picking up her mother’s stride as they marched up the trail. “Yes. This is where it began. I’ve thought of it for years.”

Myrrine nudged her with a hip, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Come, then. Let us face our past together.”

They walked the rest of the way beneath the mountain’s numerous trees, the moon just barely peaking over Attika’s distant hills. Myrrine informed Kassandra of her whereabouts since Pylos and, as always, Kassandra was simply happy she was alive. Too many good people she’d already lost: Thaletas, Perikles, Phoibe… Phoibe, she’d never forget. But to lose her mother again after finally finding her? She didn’t want to even think about losing her, too.

Their sandals crunched on the steady incline. Both women slowed closer to the ridge, already spying the cliffside where their fates had been decided. A few weeds loitered here and there among the rocks but other than that it was empty, quiet air beyond. It appeared exactly like the day they’d first come here at the priest’s behest. Kassandra still remembered Myrrine’s screams, still recalled Nikolaos’ hesitation. They should have known then that something was wrong.

And yet, as they rose to the top of the ridge they discovered it wasn’t entirely the same. Someone sat on the edge, back to them. Kassandra’s gut wrenched: she already knew who it was. She stepped in front of Myrrine even before he rose, slowly turning and offering a cold stare.

“Alexios,” she called before he could start, amazed he’d made here in one piece. “You’re alive.”

“Alexios!” Myrrine pulled forward, caught only by Kassandra before she ran straight to her child. “My lamb!”

“You brought the woman who abandoned me?” Alexios questioned, shaking his head in disgust. Hands on his hips he appeared perfectly fine, strong and imposing as always. Kassandra struggled to keep her mother in place.

“I didn’t know!” Myrrine cried, fighting her daughter’s grip. Kassandra held on tight, all sorts of emotions rising in her chest. Her mother was already crying, just like the first time they’d come here. “Alexios, I didn’t know! The priests told me you were dead, I would have never left you!”

“They told me you abandoned me,” he threw back, words harsh as they echoed along the cliffside. He paced angrily, hands moving with his words. “They took care of me, mater, not you.”

Kassandra could feel the tension emanating from him. As her mother begged his forgiveness she struggled to find reason. This was not the battlefield. They could make this work.

“What are you doing here, Alexios?” she guardedly asked, releasing Myrrine once she’d sunk to her knees in undeserved shame. “What do you want?”

“Me?” Eyes wide he gave an innocent shrug, still pacing. “I had to see where it began. Where I was left. I used to think I wanted the same as you, sister. But now I see you for what you truly are. You want to keep me from greatness. You want to destroy what I’ve created.”

“The cult is dead,” she barked, eyes never leaving his creeping figure. The way he moved, the way his gaze kept flitting to their mother…it was predatory. “All of them are dead.”

“They were weak,” he dismissed, lip curling. “Easily influenced. _I_ am nothing like them.”

She wanted to laugh at such an absurd statement but couldn’t, not when the blood had frozen in her veins. He spoke as if he were a god. She’d met men and women alike who’d believed the same. They never were true gods.

“Don’t you understand?” she growled. “Alexios, they poisoned you. They took you from us! The cult didn’t care. They wanted to use you.”

“You say that name like it means something,” her brother spat, taking several steps in their direction. Kassandra fought the urge to draw her sword, fingers twitching nonetheless. He jabbed at his breastplate, metal jangling. “ _I_ am Deimos. _I_ am a god, Eagle-Bearer, not you, and I will not let you stand in the way of my destiny.”

“You have no destiny,” she shouted back, resolve disappearing. “You’ve crossed the Greek world meddling in things you have no business with. You’ve destroyed everything you’ve touched! Are you blind? Alexios, they used you as a dog!”

“Alexios, please listen to her,” Myrrine begged. “Please! You can come home with us! The cult is dead, you don’t have to keep fighting.”

Each muscle on Alexios grew taut. The way he glared at them was as if they were the horrid gorgons themselves. Even so he still hesitated, frozen for a moment and unable to come up with a burning reply. For the briefest second Kassandra could see he was thinking. He knew there was some truth to their words.

But it didn’t last, just as she knew it wouldn’t. Spitting before her he drew his sword, the other hand beckoning her forward. “You came here for a reason, Eagle-Bearer, but you won’t win this time. This is my world, _my_ creation, and I will not let you live in it any longer.”

“Alexios, don’t say that,” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “I won’t fight you, not again.”

Eyes rolling along with his neck her brother offered the least convincing scowl of sympathy. “But Kassandra, we never finished the last one.” He tilted his chin, gaze darkening as he raised his sword once more until it pointed directly at her. “This ends tonight—here.”

An hour ago Kassandra would have looked for something more to say, _anything_ to try and bring him around. Now, however, the tip of his gleaming sword was pointed at her chest. She’d seen him exactly like this previously as he’d prepared to murder Brasidas. He didn’t care about them, he didn’t want them or to understand them. He was right, she realized. Alexios wasn’t his name, it was Deimos, and he’d rather destroy his own family and the entire Greek world before admitting he’d been a puppet.

Stepping to block their mother Kassandra deftly drew her own sword, gaze fixed on Deimos’s sadistic smirk. Beyond him she could see Sparta’s torches flickering in the distance. They could have grown up down there. They could have had a glorious life here. Instead, this was what they’d been reduced to, all because of the cult.

“I tried saving you once and it cost me everything,” she growled, already advancing. “But you, you are beyond saving. You will not survive the mountain this time.”

“Kassandra!”

Myrrine’s pleading went ignored. Kassandra launched forward, attacking him head on. He dodged her first slash and whipped to the side, twisting around to clip her shoulder. Shredded leather flew through the air. Skidding at the cliff’s edge she turned, Deimos already barreling toward her. She jumped aside and away from the edge, grateful Myrrine had scrambled a good distance from the ridge.

Deimos followed close behind. He hacked at her several times before she was able to turn it around, parrying when he tried bringing his blade through her torso and sending him careening to the ground on his back. In that instant she rushed into her advantage, rising over him and swiping at exposed flesh.

Her blade bit into his thigh before he rolled away with a grunt. She furiously trailed him, almost catching his ankle in the process. Blood spilled across the rocks and down his leg. He made it worse as he struggled to his feet, sword still in hand.

“That was for the lives you’ve destroyed!” she hollered, almost pleased his face took on that look of pure rage. “That was for Brasidas, and for Phoibe!”

He threw himself at her with an equally loud scream, a formidable war cry on any other day but not today.

She met his blade with her own. Each arch of his sword she matched and they danced across the ridge, every clash bringing them closer to the edge. Kassandra could barely hear a thing over the awful clang of metal on metal. Swear poured down her forehead as her heart struggled to pump faster. Never in her life had she wanted someone dead more than Deimos. She wished it were more painful but it wasn’t. This was _not_ her brother.

“You should have never looked for me,” he snarled, slicing at her hip. She narrowly maneuvered out of reach, Deimos letting her go as his gaze moved away. “But don’t worry, I’ll take care of mater even if you can’t.”

He darted from the edge and right past her, honing in on Myrrine who’d take refuge farther down the ridge. Everything in the world was forgotten past his blurring figure, his blade brandished and ready to cut their mother down. A burst of energy exploded in Kassandra’s chest and she raced after him, sandals pounding over rock.

“ _Deimos_!” she thundered, refusing to let him win, refusing to let him take Myrrine. Not now, not here. “Face me like a man you fucking coward!”

“Coward?” he echoed, that alone convincing him to spin about and block her sword before she ran it through his spine. With a great shove he tossed Kassandra to the wayside, leather and metal scraping on the rocks until she slowed to a halt. Momentarily dazed she laid still, hoping to reorient herself. Deimos stomped her way, sword swinging at his side. “I am a god, Eagle-Bearer, _not_ a coward.”

As if Kassandra cared. She was just glad he’d shifted his attention back to her. She managed springing to her feet before he came at her hard and fast, incensed over her words. She took it, blocking what she could and backing toward the edge with each new, successful hit. Blood flowed freely from several nicks here and there though he received just as many as he gave.

Clearly frustrated with how long it was taking Deimos’s swings grew sloppy yet they never lost their sting. Each time he swung his blade would nearly cut the rock they circled on as it slammed down. He’d lopped through the bindings on her right greave as if it were nothing, leaving her arm half exposed but he was in no better shape with his belt dangling from his waist by a thread.

In a brief pause the two stood face to face albeit several meters apart, one panting and the other growling under his breath. With his back to the cliff Deimos’s eyes darted between Kassandra and what she presumed was their weeping mother in the background. She kept her attention on him, always waiting, always watching for what he’d do next.

He shifted his grip, sword readying in his bloody fingers. “You’re going to wish I’d died the first time we were here, Eagle-Bearer.”

“Never,” she shot back without a second thought, hands tightening on her blade’s hilt. “Never, not then. Not Alexios.”

Deimos, however, she wished for nothing more. With another cry he charged and she did likewise, running as fast as her legs could carry her. She didn’t care anymore, didn’t want to prolong a fight that couldn’t be won. The closer he drew the more time seemed to slow, the world darkening around them. Kassandra could see every detail on him with startling clarity, each cut, each drop of sweat, everything. He scowled as if the world had wronged him and in a moment of understand she realized he had every right to feel as he did.

All his life he’d been told he wasn’t wanted, that he’d been left for dead despite being special and chosen by the gods themselves. It was the stuff of legend: of course he’d chosen to believe it. He didn’t want what his family could offer, not when he’d spent his whole life believing this was what he’d been born to do. Unfortunately his decisions and actions had destroyed hundreds if not thousands of lives and for that, she’d decided long ago, she couldn’t allow him to continue.

She could hear him screaming, could hear her mother begging them to stop. All she could focus on was Deimos’s quickly approaching figure. Heart pounding in her ears Kassandra gathered every ounce of strength left and charged faster. They were so close, Deimos’ blade glinting in what little light the rising moon provided. His sword was crashing down, ready to get rid of her. Drawing up one foot she kicked out with all her might, bottom of her sandal smashing into his belly.

He flew backwards in a flurry of movement, sword wrenched from his hand. Deimos’s wide, suddenly terrified eyes locked onto Kassandra’s as he careened right over the edge of the mountain, an entirely new scream leaving his mouth while he was flung from her sight.

His cry grew thinner and thinner until it abruptly ceased, followed by silence. Kassandra didn’t dare move. She couldn’t look over the edge, not even if she wanted to. Her sword clattered to the messy ground before she fell to her knees, senses rushing back and forcing her to realize what she’d just done.

“I’m sorry, Alexios,” she whispered, each word disappearing on the gentle wind.

Soft footsteps came toward her and she bowed her head, studying her bloody, quivering hands. Many times she’d hunted hoplites and strategos, assassinated cultists and bandits while they slept on their watch, but this…this was different. This was family.

A palm settled on her aching shoulder, Myrrine sniffling. She, too, couldn’t bring herself to glance over the edge.

“I tried, mater,” Kassandra moaned, fighting to push her emotions down. “I tried, but he killed so many and I…”

Myrrine squeezed her shoulder, gently hushing her. Kassandra looked away, down to Sparta below, its peaceful serenity jarring to what she felt gnawing her insides. She’d thought she would be relieved once it was done but now she wasn’t so sure, not even as Myrrine coaxed her with loving gestures.

“From the moment I first held you, I knew,” her mother quietly explained, lowering to her haunches and wrapping her arms about Kassandra’s neck as she cried. Tears still rolled down her own cheeks but she paid them no mind, smoothing her daughter’s hair back and checking for any serious wounds. “Kassandra, you were sent by the gods to protect this world, and you did. You did all you could, my lamb.”


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Kassandra's showdown with her brother and her last informal encounter with Brasidas, finalizing their future plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I tried to match the tone of "The Shores of Megaris" in the opening as much as possible, I don't know if it worked but the soundtrack nerd in me thought it worked!*

Alexios’s body was recovered and burned in the hills several days later in a small ceremony. Myrrine did not cry as Kassandra thought she would, though neither did Nikolaos, the only other person in attendance. She herself felt nothing aside from regret. Alexios had been dead long ago and there was nothing she could have done on the mountain to change that.

After the ceremony she declined returning home with the other two, citing a desire to take a ride instead. Having grown bored of Spartan stables Phobos enjoyed the attention. Kassandra wandered from Sparta to Gytheion and up into the hills guarding Attika, taking several odd jobs along the way to keep herself occupied. They only headed back when the sun was low in the sky, draping Lakonia in a blanket of gold. It made for a beautiful journey but it was wasted on her. Throughout the day her regret had morphed into an odd relief, reminding her the likes of Brasidas and countless more would live with Deimos and the cult destroyed.

And, of course, the second she thought of Brasidas she wished to see him, having missed him for several days now due to the unfortunate circumstances. He’d helped move Alexios from Mount Taygetos but after that her brother’s death rites had been a family affair. Now, with the war coasting to an end and her business with the cult over, Kassandra knew the Spartan commander would make a pleasant distraction and she knew he could use one, too. They’d barely been home a week and she heard he’d been swept back into Archidamos’ circle, providing intel on any surviving pockets of Athenian forces.

The King wanted to sack Athens in the coming months. With the likes of Brasidas and his many other formidable commanders, she had no doubt they would succeed. Despite that, she bet Brasidas was sick of being cooped up.

Phobos wove through Sparta’s market and up into the residential district in a search for the Spartan’s home. Kassandra waited for Ikaros’ cry, the eagle finding Brasidas’ dwelling fairly easily. It was even easier spotting the commander for he sat outside with a few cohorts, each grinning ear to ear as they finished a pitcher of wine and discussed something she wasn’t privy to. Soldiers were just lightning torches in the nearby street, the commander’s teeth glinting in the light. It made her happy seeing him in such a pleasant mood, though truth be told he usually was when he wasn’t under attack or recovering from near death.

He caught sight of her between laughs, that warm smile lighting up his rugged features. Kassandra returned the look, always happy to see him.

She slowed Phobos and returned the worked horse to the stables, figuring it’d give him some time to finish up. Once she wound her way back she found he remained outside on a workbench near the dwelling’s front door, patiently waiting for her. His smile grew as she swaggered before him, torchlight playing up the strong muscles beneath surrounding her tunic.

“ _Chaire_ , stranger,” she gingerly remarked, feeling him out first before asking if he wanted company. Thankfully he did, back easing against the wall as he looked her over.

“My Eagle-Bearer, she has returned.” His welcoming tone instantly relaxed her, worries disappearing with the sun. Stepping right in front of him Kassandra rested both hands on her hips, grin matching his.

“For now,” she gently informed him, focus dropping to her sandals as she kicked at the dirt. Scooting over on the bench he patted the spot beside him. Kassandra didn’t waste a second before joining him, elbows resting on her knees. Quiet a moment, they watched Sparta envelope itself in the night. Down below in the market the sound of drunken singing filled the air and mingling with the rest of their people settling down for the night.

“How fares Myrrine?” Brasidas finally asked, words soft in the warm air. Gaze narrowing Kassandra glanced at her knees, studying old scars.

“She’s…at peace.”

The commander nodded, encouraged by the report. “She’s strong, and she is still blessed with the likes of you.”

Smile thinning, Kassandra didn’t comment. By no means was she proud of what she’d done but she couldn’t imagine an alternative, not with the way fate’s dagger twisted against her. She looked over to his muscular legs and up his thighs. Discussing family affairs wasn’t something she wished to do tonight, certainly not for a long time, either.

“What’s next for you, Brasidas? What state will you be sent to conquer once Athens falls?”

The Spartan leaned forward as well, hands clasped between his legs. He still favored his right leg but it was healing much better than expected. Aside from his worrying she didn’t think it much bothered him any longer though it did bother the other commanders.

“I’m afraid they won’t send me anywhere in this condition. Archidamos asked that I sit on his council. For now I’ll take it, see if I can be of use there.”

“You’ll be more than useful,” she proudly boasted, envisioning him arguing with bullheaded commanders still wet behind the ears. “You understand the politics of war, Brasidas. They’re lucky to have you. If anyone disagrees send them my way. I’ll be sure to set them straight.”

His wry grin indicated he agreed though he didn’t go on. “And yourself? I can’t imagine you want to stay, not now.”

He had her there. Kassandra’s shoulders lowered. She idly watched a soldier traipse down the curved path before Brasidas’ home, instincts automatically determining the thousand and one ways she could kill him should he turn rogue.

“One day I suppose,” she murmured, gaze slyly returning to him with a teasing smirk. “Depending if you’re still here, but for now…for now, there are things I must do for my father.”

“That’s right, you found him before this mess, didn’t you?”

Laughing, Kassandra nodded, her father’s musty attitude over what he guarded coming to mind. “He wasn’t at all what I thought he’d be.”

His knee pressed to her side. “I’m sure you’ll accomplish whatever task he’s doled out.”

Kassandra’s chin dipped humbly. Turning slightly, she studied his quiet figure. Of all the things she’d be leaving behind, he was one of the few she’d really miss. “Brasidas, I…”

“I want to thank you,” he softly voiced, eyes focused on his fingers as they folded together. He’d clearly thought a good deal about what he wished to say. “A glorious last stand on the battlefield, that is a warrior’s death. It was all I could think of in Makedonia. Kassandra, I was prepared to die—by your brother or, gods help me, Kleon, if that was to be my fate.”

“The gods decided otherwise,” she simply replied, mind elsewhere. Alexios’ surprise as she kicked him from the mountain would always be burned into her memory. _She_ ’ _d_ decided otherwise in the god’s place. If there’d been a Spartan worth keeping alive at Amphipolis it’d been Brasidas, someone who understood humanity above all else.

He nodded along with the sentiment, one hand moving to squeeze her closest knee. “In doing so, I was able to keep fighting. Thank you, Kassandra.”

She smiled briefly, her own hand covering his as she took a deep sigh. “There’s nothing to thank. Laugh all you’d like but it’s true—I wasn’t finished with you is all.”

Uttering a mocking gasp Brasidas snorted. “The Eagle-Bearer does finish everything she starts.”

In the many, many places they’d found each other, from Krete to Ellis, Korinth to Lesbos, that was the one thing he could count on from her. Pleased she’d made such an impact she knocked shoulders with him, both their laughter drifting into the night.

“If I change my mind,” the commander continued once they’d settled, ducking closer to her, “is there still room on the Adrestia?”

“For you?” Kassandra scooted until their hips met, shoulders touching, noses hardly an inch apart. Even in the dark she enjoyed the soft glint of his gaze. “Always.”

That beautiful smile, the one she couldn’t resist, returned. Brasidas closed the gap first, lips brushing over hers. She stilled, lips parting and reciprocating what he’d begun. The hand holding hers moved to her cheek, brushing back a strand of hair while her own stroked up the Spartan’s side, fingers gliding over leather and battle-hardened muscle. He groaned into her mouth, enjoying her touch. Their kiss deepened, the rest of the street and Sparta’s soft glow beyond forgotten. Kassandra happily spun her legs over his lap so his hands could wander both above and under her tunic. What did it matter? In the coming weeks she’d be gone and she wanted him right now. She’d wanted this closeness ever since they’d left Makedonia and she’d strike down Zeus himself if she missed the opportunity tonight.

His fingers were stroking the back of her thighs when he abruptly pulled back, breaking their kiss. Between giddy pants he smiled, eyes roving over her beneath lowered lids.

“Inside,” he ordered, chin jutting to the wall behind them. “To _my_ bed, Eagle-Bearer.”

She swore he lit up as she pushed from the bench, a hand catching his and dragging him with. Together they stumbled through the front and into the house, knocking things over in their wake. Kassandra blindly wove through his home until she found a dim room filled with a plush, fur-covered bed, spoils of war glimmering from the walls around it. She didn’t have much time to admire the setup, Brasidas right behind her, nimbly pulling her tunic up and over her head. Pleased with his eagerness she spun about while he threw off his own clothes, the two studying one another in what little lamplight there was.

Before her stood a man she’d loved numerous times in many parts of the Greek world over a matter of years. Every scar, every overworked muscle, every knot of flesh and every tan line told Brasidas’ story of determination, of conquering, and of never giving in. His beard was trimmed better now that he was home but his hair she’d still run her hands through in a moment, still toy with the braided circlet adorning his crown. And, she knew just by looking at him he saw the same story in her.

The pale lines crisscrossing her strong body had been earned, each and every one of them. The long golden brown mane she proudly braided and didn’t dare cut, just as her forefathers before her. The fierce, honey brown eyes that never missed a detail, never stopped assessing any situation. Broad shoulders that’d carried much and lean arms that’d given her the ability to scale countless obstacles. Underneath such power she still fit the feminine build of Athena and Brasidas could not ignore such beauty.

Even if it took a moment he managed to his knees before her, gripping her hips and pressing a cheek to the apex between her thighs. With a loving grin Kassandra ducked her chin, fingers pushing through his hair.

“I may have to reconsider the King’s request,” he murmured, eyelids shuttering. “These past few years, Kassandra…fate has led me to your embrace. I don’t want to lose your company, not now.”

A pleasant warmth spread from her chest and Kassandra did her best to keep grounded. He’d spoken things she’d felt every time they had an encounter, things she’d never been able to articulate. Brasidas was her partner in battle, in bed and on the road. He always kept a level head and carefully considered his options, always choosing what was good for both him and Sparta.

Lowering to her haunches she kept her arms circled about Brasidas’ neck, enamored eyes studying his. Once she’d planted a kiss on his jaw she smiled and said, “Join my crew, Brasidas. Please. It would be an honor to have you.”

He couldn’t answer but she didn’t push it, either. Instead she helped him back to his feet and they collapsed on the bed. Kassandra pushed him beneath her, straddling his waist and hunching over so she could kiss a trail from his chest, up his neck and jaw until she found his mouth once more. This time they shared an urgency, a need to connect with one another. As Kassandra’s lips roved over him Brasidas didn’t hesitate to encourage her squirming hips, one hand reaching between her legs as the other strummed a thumb over her pert nipple. Moaning into his awaiting mouth her focus narrowed to them and them alone.

His manhood pressed at her backside and she straightened a moment, sliding him between her folds and sighing as he stretched her tight. Beneath her Brasidas groaned approval, head rolling back amongst the furs. Taking her by the hips once more his pelvis rolled, picking up a rhythm fairly quickly. Kassandra’s teeth glinted in the dark while she ground against him. She adored him in this state. Judging by the sweet noises rumbling up his chest he did, too.

It wouldn’t last long. Just as her insides coiled with tension he tapped a hip, gaze drunkenly finding hers between quick breaths.

“Lay down.”

Grinning like a malakas Kassandra dove to her right, stretching out on her back and making herself comfortable. She couldn’t think about anything beyond Brasidas as he shifted to his knees, taking his time but always steady. Soon as her legs were spread he rose between her, taking a moment to sweep his gaze over her body. She did the same and reached down to stroke herself, pleased when his upper lip curled in lust.

In a swift stroke he buried his manhood within her once more, that obnoxious grin growing. Kassandra grabbed at the furs beneath them while he covered her body, overwhelming her as he gathered her in his embrace. Her legs hooked over his backside the harder he ground into her, nails digging in between his shoulder blades soon after.

Pressing himself against her Brasidas ducked to her side, mouth pressed to her ear, whispering all the things he’d like to do to her on the open water, her vivid imagination running wild at the thought. His lips were on her earlobe, strong arms squeezing her tight, thighs powerfully slamming into hers—it was all she could do to cling to him. Her belly tightened, insides seizing, a bolt of lightning imminent. Eyes squeezed shut she found herself honing in on that feeling, body opening to Brasidas, giving him everything she had.

Forehead to her temple the Spartan growled when she shattered in his hold, her grip on him bearing down from inside and out. It drove him over the edge. His thrusts hit quicker and without reason, muscles contracting. Lost in her own world Kassandra cooed over his crushing presence.

She’d made the right choice. She’d known it in Amphipolis, she’d known it on the mountain, and she knew it now.

When he came his heart thundered against hers, blood roaring in her ears, an entirely new sensation flooding her veins at his strangled cry. As he stilled their hold on one another loosened, though neither let go until he rolled to her side. Slowly, oh so slowly, the night returned from their peripheral, crickets singing softly in the distance. Somewhere out on the streets a soldier barked at drunkards to behave: heady laughter ensued.

In the bed however neither seemed in a hurry to get back to that world. Sweaty and exhausted Brasidas kissed her crown, breath hot in her hair. Kassandra lay limp against him, chest still filled with newfound affection. Like her emotions her mind was clear. Taking a deep breath she draped a leg over his, chin tilting to offer a wanton grin. His soft laughter answered her, elbow hooking her into a lazy hug.

“You’ve convinced me,” he huskily murmured, exhale draining any questions he might’ve had. “No more chance encounters. Let me speak with the King and then…then I’ll meet you on the Adrestia.”

Kassandra’s toes curled. She nipped at his jaw, beaming proudly. “Good. Then my job here is finished.”


End file.
